


smoke and stoplights

by Raven (singlecrow)



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:38:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2561630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlecrow/pseuds/Raven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So here's the thing: Barney's pants are somehow on the back of a chair on the other side of the room. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	smoke and stoplights

So here's the thing. Barney's pants are somehow on the back of a chair on the other side of the room, and Ted's on his knees. This is - Barney hasn't decided what this is yet. It could be awesome. Okay, Ted's mouth, that's the inside of Ted's mouth, it's warm and wet and he has - like, a tongue, and stuff. Okay, so Barney isn't excluding the possibility of awesome. He opens his own mouth to say so and he's pretty sure he meant to use a full sentence, with a couple of super on-the-spot neologisms and what comes out is "erk".

Ted stops what he's doing and pushes back slightly. "Are you actually speechless?" he demands. "Who are you and what have you done with Barney Stinson?"

"Uh," Barney says again, embarrassingly. Ted rolls his eyes and goes back to it and Barney's brain shorts out for a second, goes back to _hot_ and _wet_ and _Ted_ , but then Ted shifts back to get more comfortable and in that moment with the cool air on his junk, some of Barney's awesome neurons start firing again. Ted takes a breath, dips his head so his hair brushes soft against the inside of Barney's thighs - it's nice, Barney thinks, intimate and sweet, and Jesus, maybe Ted's right and he's been replaced by a pod person - and puts his hands on Barney's hips, his thumbs digging casually in. Barney looks down and he can't exactly see if Ted is smiling or licking his lips or what, but his eyes are bright, just like they are when he's about to laugh. "You've done this before."

"I think I'd remember," Ted murmurs, humming slightly, and he's been teasing and tasting, taking his time, so when he licks a calculated stripe upwards along the whole length of Barney's dick, Barney gets derailed again for a moment. 

"I don't mean, this," he says, when he can talk again, "I mean, you, and guys" - and then Ted does something quick and efficient with his tongue. "Jesus, Mosby" – and he's gone. 

"Never said I hadn't," Ted says, leaving a trail of kisses and - oh, teeth - nips along Barney's skin as he stands up. 

"I mean," Barney says, pulling his shirt and tie straight out of habit, "you're good at that."

"Never said I wasn't," Ted says. He goes into the kitchen and pulls a can of soda from the refrigerator, pulls the tab and drinks a couple of mouthfuls of it. Barney wonders what Ted's mouth would taste like right now. Sweet, from the soda, and salt from - that. "You are really freaked out right now, aren't you?

"No," Barney gets out. "You're Ted. You're all - you know..."

"And you," Ted says, coming back over and getting right into Barney's personal space - and, hey, Barney doesn't have to wonder any more, though truthfully Ted just tastes of Mountain Dew right now, sweet and familiar, like they do this all the time. Close-to, he smells vaguely of soap and the smoke of the city in winter, just how he always does when he comes in from the cold. "You," Ted says, into Barney's mouth, "are a homophobe, Barney Stinson."

"Wait, what?" Barney pulls out of the kiss. "I'm my brother's wingman! My brother's _awesome_ wingman!"

"You're also mine," Ted points out, walking across the floor. He's fully dressed down to his boots, looks like he's just walked in off the street. Except for those smudges of dust on his knees. Barney grabs his pants. "And I know what you like, which is no big deal, people you meet in line at the ATM know what you like, that's fine. But you know what I like. You've walked in on me having sex." He shakes his head, as though to clear it of a memory. "Seriously, dude, any other guy on the planet would have walked straight out. I thought you were going to try and voyeurism-five me before Victoria's shoe hit your face."

"Ted," Barney says, "is there a point to this?"

"But now you know I've done _this_ " - he gestures at the floor, and Barney shivers a little - "and that's what's filthy. That I could've done that."

Barney can't help it; he shivers again. "That's not it! You're" - he gestures - "you're Ted. You like romantic stuff. All that crap that girls like. Hey, is that why..."

"Don't even thinking about finishing that sentence," Ted says, warningly.

"You're not the guy who just gets on his knees and..." Barney waves.

"I am. I have" – and now he's said that, Barney is picturing Ted's own apartment, the grubby kitchen where for some reason people use their dishes and utensils, so Lily and Marshall could, at any moment…

"Ted. You and _Marshall_?"

Ted laughs. "Jesus, no. Can you imagine what Lily would do?"

"Dude, Lily would sell tickets."

"Fair." Ted takes that with equanimity. "You want to go get a bagel or something?"

"What, that's what we do now?"

"Yeah," Ted says, grinning at first, but serious after another moment, soft-eyed, more like the Ted that Barney has always known. "If, you know, you want" - and once his suit is straight on him and they're heading out into the clean winter air, Barney thinks that sounds fine.


End file.
